One Woman's Worth
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: Leslie develops an obsession that frightens Christian. Follows 'Paternity'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _The conclusion and resolution of the cliffhanger I left behind in the last story. Hold onto your seats, everybody… :)  
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§ § § -- September 8, 2003

They had seen Duke Sebastian Markelius off on the early-afternoon plane and had been more than a little amazed at the fact that Ingela had agreed to allow her son to spend some time with his father at the duke's family home in Lilla Jordsö. Kurt and Sebastian had already begun forging a solid relationship, and Ingela had been surprisingly amenable about it, saying that Kurt had never known her father and it would allow him to get to know Sebastian while she dealt with the aftermath of Torvald Vikslund's passing. Christian had also provided Sebastian with Anna-Laura's e-mail address and urged him to get in touch with her, and to refer her to him and Leslie if she questioned him.

Now, back at their own home, Christian was in a very good mood, enough that when Anna-Kristina had called looking for solace in the wake of an argument with Mateo, he'd patiently talked her into a calmer state and made a few suggestions as to how she could resolve the problem. Leslie watched him; he was speaking with his niece in _jordiska_, so she couldn't understand his end of the conversation, but she could read his facial expressions, and at one point he smiled a little slyly at nothing in particular and made a suggestion whose tone told Leslie its meaning. She giggled, catching his attention and making him grin broadly and wink at her.

That had put an idea into Leslie's head, and now that she'd finished straightening the kitchen she headed out to put it into practice. Despite it being mid-afternoon she set about giving the bedroom a soft, dusky atmosphere conducive to romance. There was a method to her madness, and she felt slightly guilty about doing this with an ulterior motive in mind; but it wasn't enough to stop her. Christian had never objected to making love with her, no matter the time or place; she had no reason to believe he'd start now.

Once she had finished preparing the bedroom, she changed into a sheer gown that Christian had given her for their second anniversary nearly seven months before and settled on the end of the bed to wait for him. Faintly she could still hear his voice from the kitchen; she got up, went to the spiral steps that led into the living room and perched on the top step so she could hear him better. The sound of Christian's voice did amazing things to her: it could calm her when she was upset, soothe her when she cried, seduce her when she least expected it. She didn't often have the opportunity to listen to him using his own language, and whenever he did she found it impossible to keep from eavesdropping. Hearing him speak _jordiska_ fascinated her, and if he happened to lapse into it during a romantic moment, as he did occasionally, it had an unexpected effect on her that never failed to surprise her.

Leslie drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, daydreaming with her husband's voice providing background. She closed her eyes, smiled, lost herself in a dream world for a little while, and forgot about everything else for some time.

"Well," said Christian's amused voice all of a sudden, "wherever you are, my Rose, it certainly isn't here in this room!"

She blinked and sat up straight, then groaned softly and scrambled to her feet. "I spoiled my own surprise," she muttered, disgusted with herself.

Christian looked around the room and grinned knowingly. "Are you so sure it's been spoiled?" he asked, reaching out and tracing the neckline of her gown. "It seems obvious enough to me what your intentions were, and trust me, I'm interested."

Leslie smiled, turned away and drifted toward the bed, glancing over her shoulder at him; he stood near the steps, watching her. "Are you waiting for something?" she asked.

He grinned again. "Pretend I didn't discover you dreaming here on the steps," he said, "and do what you had originally intended to be doing when I came looking for you."

"I was going to be sitting just about like this, waiting for you to find me," she said.

"Ah, I see. And presumably I was to act on that as I saw fit?" he teased her.

"You're catching on, my love," Leslie teased back, trying to hold in her giggles.

Christian's grin softened into a gently suggestive smile and he approached her slowly, removing his shirt at some leisure and tossing it aside. Then he sat down behind her and drew her back till she was leaning against him and he could freely caress her from behind. "So tell me, am I still doing this as you wished?" he asked softly.

"Hmmmmm…my darling, you learn fast," she murmured, closing her eyes.

He bent his head and began to nuzzle her neck. "Hard not to…with such a beautiful teacher…" he breathed, and Leslie lost herself again in the sound of his voice and the warm touch of his hands on her.

Then she whispered dreamily, "Talk to me in _jordiska."_

Christian stilled. "What?" he asked in soft surprise.

Leslie opened her eyes and turned to look hopefully at him. "I can't explain it, but when you speak _jordiska_ it does something to me. Try it now and see what happens."

He thought that over for a moment or two, one hand kneading her thigh, and then smiled—very slowly. "Is this some new seduction tactic?" he asked.

"It could be…for you," she replied, relaxing against him and closing her eyes.

"Ah, I see," he said again. "Perhaps, as you said, if it 'does something to you' when I use _jordiska_, then the fact that you just heard me using it with Anna-Kristina put you in this unusually romantic mood, and I'd better take advantage of it before I lose my chance."

"I married a truly brilliant man," Leslie murmured, smiling a little. "Oh, keep touching me right there…oh, Christian…" At the same time her hand slid up his leg, and he let out a soft sigh before whispering to her in his native language, weaving a spell around her.

Some little time later he stirred sleepily in her arms and mumbled something else in _jordiska_, making her smile and reach up to smooth his hair. He lifted his head, caught her expression, and suddenly grinned. "You thought that was romantic?"

She stared up at him and asked suspiciously, "What'd you say, then, you awful tease?"

"I said, 'I think I need something to eat'," Christian answered, dissolving into laughter even as he spoke, and then flinching aside when she scrambled out from under him and tried to pounce. "Well, I did!"

"Christian Enstad, I swear to you, one way or the other I'm going to learn that language of yours!" Leslie threatened, despite herself joining in his laughter. "I keep telling you I want to learn it, and you never teach me anything!"

"Well, you should have remembered what your grandmother tried to teach you all those years ago," Christian teased, still laughing. "All right, all right, my Rose, don't attack! If you're really serious about learning some _jordiska_, then I see no reason not to teach you. I only wonder if it will change the spell I can cast over you when we make love."

She giggled again and grabbed his arm, tugging at it to make him come back to her. "I don't think so," she assured him. "In fact, it might enhance it…I could maybe say something back to you in your own tongue."

Christian looked intrigued. "That presents some interesting possibilities," he said thoughtfully, still half grinning. "I'll have to look into it. But in the meantime, I suspect you already know a few words. I still have a memory of our last parting before I was able to return here to marry you, in which you said something very beautiful to me in _jordiska_ and made me nearly cry in public. Do you still remember that?"

Leslie nodded, sitting up beside him and settling into his lap, kissing him softly. "I do remember it. Unfortunately, I forgot most of the words I memorized."

"For shame," Christian murmured, speaking now between kisses. "What do you remember, then?"

"I remember…" Leslie mumbled, but he cut her off with a long kiss and she was lost. In time, when he lifted his head and waited, she looked blankly at him and a slow smile crossed his features.

"Tell me what you said to me then," he whispered against her lips.

Half drugged by his touch and his kiss, she tried to dredge her memory, but all she could come up with was, _"Jag älskar dej."_

"That's very good," he breathed. _"Ock jag älskar dej, med hela hjärtet ock i hela livet,_ that's what you told me." He kissed her again.

Leslie's soft moan made him pull back. With her eyes still closed, she whispered, "With all my heart and for all my life."

"Exactly so," he said. "You're a fast learner too, my darling. Now you say it to me."

"_Med hela hjärtet…"_ she murmured obediently, let herself drown in another kiss, and then struggled to think when he pulled back again.

"Just one more phrase," Christian coaxed softly, gently teasing, his lips brushing her cheek. "I know you remember."

"_Ock…i hela livet,"_ she moaned. "Oh, Christian, you're killing me…please…"

"I haven't even started," he assured her. _"Ah, min söta vackra ros, min älskling…"_ And with those words he kissed her again, finally falling as much under her spell as she was under his. They didn't speak again in either language for quite some time.

§ § § -- September 10, 2003

Christian barely managed to hold back a yawn before hanging up with the longtime manager of his Sundborg office, and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Leslie had kept him awake later than he was accustomed to the previous night, and while it had been the most pleasant of ways to pass the time, he was paying for it today.

It wasn't lost on his employees either. "Late night, Boss Prince?" Jonathan asked with a knowing grin.

"I've had a few of those lately," Mateo murmured unexpectedly, and both Jonathan and Julianne began to laugh. With a grin, he focused on Christian. "Wives have a way of doing things like that, I've found."

"So it seems," Christian agreed, unable to stifle a new yawn. "I'm not objecting in the slightest, but _herregud_, I need a nap in the worst way. Don't they take afternoon siesta periods in Mediterranean countries? I should e-mail King Errico and ask him if that's an Arcolosian habit as well. Listen, you two, you're both easily old enough. You should find suitable mates and get married, and that might entitle you to join in the banter about marriage around here."

"Anton's not married either," Julianne pointed out.

"Anton doesn't make suggestive remarks," Christian retorted good-naturedly. "Yes, I think both of you need to get married. I expect your siblings could testify to the advantages of marriage."

"Well, Jennette's kind of dopey about it," Jonathan said, rolling his eyes. "Give her half a chance and she'll spout off about how romantic Pat is all the time. I bet they aren't half as romantic now that they've got a baby in the house. And our sister Andrea just got a divorce. She's coming back to the island with her kids—she has two teenage girls."

"There are so many of you," Christian remarked, eyeing him with a teasing glint. "I can't keep track—I know the two of you, and I know your sister Camille because she and Leslie are close friends. Just how many are there?"

"Andrea's the oldest," Julianne explained. "She's 42 now and her girls are 16 and 13. Our brother Tommy's 40 and he has a company in Hilo that writes antivirus software. He's married and has a boy and a girl. Camille's the third and she's got David and Craig and Robin. And us quads are the youngest. I was born first, then Jonathan, then Jeremy, and Jennette's the youngest with Pat and her little boy. And hey, Boss Prince, that reminds me—Tommy heard about you opening that branch in London, and he wanted me to ask you if you were interested in offering his software here in the office."

"It's not really a retail operation I'm running here," Christian said thoughtfully, "and I can defeat a virus, but they usually come to me only when the affected computer is beyond all other help and I have to go in and completely clean it out."

"You're usually too busy for quick fixes that antivirus software can handle," Mateo put in. "It might be a good deal for you, Christian."

Christian nodded. "Well, Julianne, suppose you contact your brother and tell him I might be interested, and if he has the opportunity to call, I'll be glad to talk with him." He yawned yet again, then groaned and fell back in his chair. "That's if I can stay awake to do it. If you three would hold down the fort for about fifteen minutes, I'm going to check with Mariki at the main house about some coffee. She uses the Kona stuff and that seems to keep me awake more than what I normally buy."

"Just don't let Miss Leslie catch you," Jonathan said slyly.

"There are days," Christian said in mock threat, "when I have serious thoughts about sending you off to work for your brother and finding another accountant who has a smaller mouth than you." Julianne burst out laughing, and Jonathan snickered, making Christian add with false disgruntlement, "And you take my insults far too well. Mateo, I hope you can keep these two brats in line. I'll be back shortly." They all agreed, and he left, walking to the main house in the hope of waking himself up.

Roarke was alone in the study and looked up in surprise when Christian came in. "Good morning, Christian! I hope there's nothing urgent."

"Not at all, Mr. Roarke…I just wanted to find out if I could talk Mariki out of some coffee. I seem to be unusually sleepy this morning." Right on cue Christian yawned again and then grinned sheepishly at Roarke. "I rest my case."

Roarke laughed. "If it helps at all, Leslie has been yawning all morning as well. I hope you two are sleeping well, especially now that last week's ordeal has been resolved."

"Oh, sleep isn't the problem," Christian said and turned reddish. "She's been quite…uh, well, _romantic_ lately, shall I call it. It's a little unusual for her, but I'm not objecting. I only wish we didn't have to get up quite so early." He chuckled with Roarke. "Please, don't let me interrupt you. I'll get out of your way…excuse me."

Roarke watched his son-in-law go off to the kitchen, his amusement fading. Leslie had been in much the same drowsy state as her husband, but she had been bright and cheerful all morning, a gleam in her eye that had made him wonder. It was good to see her back to her usual self, after her uncharacteristic submissiveness in Ingela Vikslund's presence; but he still sensed a disquiet in her, a restless unease that he wasn't certain Leslie herself was aware of. If she continued to exhibit it, he'd have to ask her about it. He put the problem aside and returned to his work.

Just about then, with Roarke trying to clear out paperwork and Christian cadging some coffee out of Mariki, Leslie pulled up at the marina where she was to carry out a little business for Roarke, and got out of the car just in time to see Lauren, Camille, Myeko and Maureen all come out of the little shack that Brian and Lauren still used as the office for their hydrofoil business. Her friends instantly recognized the red car that had for so many years been symbolic of Roarke's operation and charged in her direction, towing Lauren along with them. "Come on, you have to spread the news," Myeko was insisting.

"That's right, we'll be telling Tabitha and Katsumi as soon as we can anyway," Camille added. "Will you get over here and stop looking like you're dying of something?"

"What's going on?" Leslie asked curiously.

Camille grinned. "The unthinkable happened." She nudged her cousin and urged, "Come on, Lauren, for crying out loud, tell her!"

Lauren looked up and twisted her mouth, then sighed with resignation. "I'm sure you guys are gonna get the world's biggest laugh out of this. Fine, all right…Leslie, you're never gonna believe this, but I just found out I'm pregnant."

The news froze Leslie completely; a cold tingly feeling swept through her, and she gawked in shock at Lauren, who nodded. Myeko remarked, "That's about the way Lauren looked when she got the news. Camille and I were with her at the hospital when she heard, and we bumped into Maureen in town and told her. Poor Brian doesn't even know yet, but we can't help that…he's on the morning hydrofoil run."

"You okay, Leslie?" Maureen asked, peering at her.

"Yeah," Leslie mumbled dazedly. "I'm fine…really…" She forced herself to move forward and give Lauren a quick hug. "That's fantastic, Lauren."

"She's not even sick," said Camille with mock disgust. "She never had a clue till this morning, and the doctor said she's ten weeks along already. I'm so jealous, you can't imagine. And this is my cousin, who was always so grossed out by our pregnancy horror stories that she swore to everybody in sight that she'd never get pregnant because she'd wind up projectile-vomiting three times a day and watching herself gain six hundred pounds. I could strangle her…I was sick for six months with Robin."

Leslie smiled, ever so faintly. "You're probably going to be just fine," she murmured.

"Yeah, I guess," Lauren said and shrugged, then socked her cousin in the arm. "And now that you've blabbed that, you've probably jinxed me. Tomorrow morning I'll be throwing up everything I've eaten since June." They all laughed. "So what brings you around here, Leslie? You're in one of Mr. Roarke's cars, so I guess you're here on business."

"Oh…yeah…I did have something," Leslie said, trying to gather her wits back together. "Father said there's a party of tourists coming here from South Africa, on some kind of group tour of South Pacific islands, and they're supposed to get here Saturday afternoon and stay till next Wednesday morning. They've got quite the itinerary, and they're supposed to do the local island group here…Coral and four or five others. And they want to use your hydrofoil to make the trip, so this could be really lucrative for you guys."

"Hey, that's great," Lauren said. "I'll get hold of Brian and tell him…and something tells me I'd better mention that before I break the news that we're gonna be parents. After I tell him that, he won't hear anything else."

"How do you think he'll take it?" Maureen asked.

"I don't know," Lauren said. "He seemed happy enough with it being just him and me, and to tell you the truth I kinda liked it that way myself." She gave the other girls a knowing smirk. "We had great company in Christian and Leslie, you know. Us grown-ups could have adult parties with wine and stuff, and not have to watch our language if we didn't want to, and talk about anything without having to keep it G-rated. I guess those days are over. Sorry, Leslie." Leslie smiled faintly. "Now will you guys please keep it quiet till I've managed to inform my husband? He was supposed to be the first one to know."

"Well, geez, then go tell him already," Camille said, rolling her eyes. "It kills me…you, the one who said she'd have a baby only if she didn't have to get pregnant—pregnant. I'm going to have the world's best time watching you go through this."

"Shut up," Lauren said and gave her another whack in the arm. "I'm going in to call Brian." She headed back for the shack; Myeko and Camille followed, but Maureen lingered a moment, eyeing Leslie with some concern.

"Are you really sure you're okay, Leslie?" she asked. "I mean, you looked like Lauren had hit you when she first announced she's pregnant."

Leslie gave her friend a half-smile. "Don't worry about me," she said. "It's just a big surprise, that's all…like Camille said, seeing Lauren pregnant after all the grossed-out reactions she was always having to hearing everyone's horror stories." She suddenly grinned at Maureen. "I bet nobody'll stop picking on her for the next seven months."

"You're probably right," Maureen agreed through a laugh. "Well, okay, as long as you're sure. Don't let me keep you from your job…see you later on."

It was a relief for Leslie to watch Maureen head for the shack after the other girls. She set her jaw, got into the car and started it, backing out and swinging around, with one purpose in mind. Dr. Lambert was about to have an unexpected walk-in.


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- September 10, 2003

Christian scrubbed a hand over his face, emerging from the bathroom and giving a long yawn. "I feel as if I could sleep till next month," he murmured.

"You're really that tired?" Leslie asked, watching him from the bed where she sat. She was clad in a light summer nightshift and had been idly paging through a magazine, which she now tossed aside. "It's not that late."

"No, but I think I've been awake too long," he said teasingly and slipped into the bed beside her. "You don't have to go to sleep right away if you don't want to, my Rose, but I don't think I can stay awake much longer. Go ahead and read if you like."

But Leslie had lost interest in the magazine and shrugged. "No, I don't think I'll bother," she murmured. She glanced wistfully at him, watching him turn out the lamp on his nightstand and settle down for some sleep. He caught her at it and paused, peering at her curiously.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She hesitated, he yawned yet again, and she gave up. "No, it's okay," she said softly. "I think maybe I'll go in and play on the computer for awhile or something."

Christian stopped moving altogether and stared at her in surprise. "You will?"

"Is that so strange?" Leslie asked.

Christian chuckled. "Well, I suppose not, but you…I don't know, you look as if something's gone very wrong. Why don't you tell me about it, my darling?"

"Oh, it's really nothing," she insisted, her voice still soft. "Go ahead and get some sleep, my love. I'll be in a little later." She slid out of the bed and started for the library, wondering if she might be able to lose herself in a few mindless games of freecell solitaire.

"Leslie," Christian said from behind her, and she stopped and turned to him. His expression was gently stern. "It's not like you to hold back from me. Something's bothering you, I can see it. Never mind the computer. Come over here and talk to me."

She slowly retraced her steps to the bed and stopped beside it, regarding him. "It's not so much that there's something bothering me," she said finally. "I was just hoping we could make love, but if you're too tired…"

"Oh," he said and grinned. "Is that all? I'll make certain you're too worn out to do anything more than fall asleep right here at my side, before I'm finished with you." He patted the mattress on her side of the bed. "Get in here so I can have my way with you."

Leslie burst into laughter and gladly crawled in beside him, a strange sense of relief sweeping her. "Maybe I'll wear you out first," she teased him.

"We'll see about that," Christian retorted and kissed her before she could find a response. With a happy sigh she surrendered to him, and her last thought was, _Maybe this time,_ before she completely lost herself in him.

September 17, 2003

"…And it was actually the first time I'd been down there since Mr. Roarke swept out the bad elements," Christian was saying, sitting in the bed with his head hanging while Leslie, using a little sandalwood-scented oil, massaged his back. "I couldn't believe how peaceful it is. But the reminders remain. Those computers withstood so much abuse before the big fire, I'm frankly amazed they continue to function, so I can't say I'm really surprised that one of them finally gave up the ghost. It was much like Mr. Roarke's back in March; the thing just defied every solution I had. I have a feeling each of those machines is going to expire of exhaustion, one at a time, over the next few weeks or months, and there I'll be, making trips down there to try to repair them."

"Just like old times," Leslie teased him, finding a particularly tight spot in one of his muscles and determinedly digging her thumbs into it.

Christian laughed. "Exactly so…_aj!"_ He flinched and then groaned aloud. "Ahhhhh, that feels much better suddenly. You're very good at that, my Rose."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that. I've never given anyone else back rubs like this, so maybe I'm just good at doing yours. I think you just had a muscle kink there." She tipped forward and kissed the back of his neck. "Any more trouble spots?"

"Perhaps when you hit one, I'll realize it then," he murmured. "Don't stop."

Leslie slowly smoothed her hands down his back, gently rubbing the oil into his skin. "I like the scent of this stuff. It reminds me of you."

"Oh?" he prompted.

"That soap you like," she said and smiled dreamily. "When I hug you, I can smell the sandalwood under your cologne. I could go blind and deaf and still be able to know you just from the scent of that soap and the cologne."

"Hmm, I see," came his drowsy response. She heard the sleepy note to his tone and frowned slightly, then caressed back up toward his shoulders and smiled faintly to herself when she came across another tight spot. "Oh, there's one," he said and seemed to brace himself, and she laughed.

"You're not supposed to get all tense," she said. "Relax, my love." She pressed her thumbs into the muscle again, and got the same flinch and exclamation before he wilted and groaned with relief. Leslie chuckled and smoothed his skin again, then slipped her arms around him from behind and slowly caressed his chest, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

Christian hummed softly with enjoyment and slipped a hand under her calf, slowly stroking up and down. "I must admit, that was an excellent idea you had about the back rub. Remind me to do that for you sometime."

"Hmm, I will," she said, smiling to herself and then beginning to trail kisses along his shoulder. "You smell so good…"

Christian stilled, though he was smiling slightly. "Oh?" he murmured. "Should I start wearing this oil instead of my cologne, then?"

"Hm?" she murmured dreamily, now nuzzling his neck.

She wasn't at all aware of it, but Christian had begun to wonder what was happening to Leslie. For the last two weeks there hadn't been one night they'd failed to make love when they were both at home, and he found that just a little odd, even for the two of them. The thing that really struck him about it was that, every single time, it had been at Leslie's urging. Most of the time he was the one who initiated the act, and for a while he'd found it stimulating to have her making the first move. Now he wondered if something was amiss, and finally gave in to the urge to ask. "Leslie, tell me something. What's behind the nightly lovemaking? I don't think you've missed a single night since I returned from London."

She went still and lifted her head. "Do you want to stop?"

"I didn't say that," he assured her, hearing the faint undertone of hurt in her voice, wondering why that was there, too. "I'm just surprised that you're so eager. There isn't something bothering you, is there? Something you'd like to talk about?"

"Of course not, everything's fine," Leslie said, her hands slowly moving over his chest again. "I guess I must have missed you so much while we were apart that I'm trying to make up for lost time."

"I'd say you made up for it and then some," Christian observed lightly. "It's as if you expect us to be apart again and you're storing up."

Leslie moved in closer to him so that she was pressed flush against his back. "Don't you realize what you do to me? I can't resist you, Christian, my love. Somehow I can't seem to get enough of you. I love you so much I can't stay away from you."

He suddenly realized how foolish he must sound. _Christian Enstad, you idiot, you're asking your wife why she wants to make love with you? How many other men would kill to have their wives as eager as yours? It's a gift—accept it!_ Something still nagged at him, in the back of his mind somewhere, but he shut a mental door on it and took her hand, pressing it against him so that she was fully aware of his own state of arousal. It surprised even him; she'd managed to seduce him somehow without his being aware of it, and he was wryly amused at himself. "It seems you've convinced me," he teased her gently, hearing her soft indrawn breath.

"I think you're right," she agreed and slowly, gently, started to massage. It was all she needed to sweep his mind completely clean of any concerns. When he could no longer endure the sweet torture, he lifted himself just enough to turn and face her, then gently pushed her back down onto her pillow. Her soft sigh echoed in his ear and he kissed her, no longer able to hold back. _Who cares why she wants to make love. She does, and that's good enough. Besides, I can't resist her either._ Christian let himself get drunk on her and forgot everything for the rest of the night.

§ § § -- September 20, 2003

It was a rare Saturday night when all the men were able to get together without their wives. They'd gathered at the Miyamotos' townhouse for this one: Katsumi was working late at the teahouse, holding a ceremony for some visiting Japanese politicians from several prefectures who'd decided to have some business discussions on Fantasy Island, for whatever reasons; 13-year-old Haruko and 5½-year-old Chikako were with her, helping her. So Kazuo, having promised Katsumi that he'd be certain to clean up afterward, had suggested the men watch a late-season soccer match that had been taped in Europe earlier that day for later broadcasting. Kazuo and Christian understood it better than the other men, except perhaps Fernando, who admitted to preferring baseball. Grady, Brian, Nick and Jimmy were football fans, as it turned out, but found they liked soccer enough for the match to hold their interest.

Kazuo had laid in a supply of beer from around the world, and Christian was enjoying an obscure German brand that he'd long ago learned to like in Lilla Jordsö. Kazuo had a bottle of Tsingtao and Fernando had introduced Grady to Dos Equis, from Mexico; the others were drinking American beers. During the less exciting moments in the match—and admittedly, there were many such—the men were talking about one thing and another, and inevitably the conversation included their wives. "I still can't get Camille to make love," Jimmy was complaining with a groan, making the other men look at one another with surprised half-grins. "Ever since Robin was born she claims she gained fifty pounds and has to get rid of it, and she won't let me see her without plenty of clothes on. What is it with women and their obsession with weight?"

"Hey," said Fernando, "weight gain is normal during pregnancy, and the girls are all, what, 38 now? It's harder to lose it the older a woman gets when she has a baby. For that matter, it's harder to lose weight the older you get, baby or no baby, man or woman."

"Yeah…you know, you have a point there," Jimmy admitted, patting his own gut. "I think I've been drinking a little too much of this." He examined his beer bottle, and the others laughed in appreciation. "Must be time for me to start climbing the stairs at the hotel, instead of using the elevator all the time."

There was a commotion on the television set and their attention shifted to that for a moment. _"Herregud,_ he actually scored," Christian said and laughed. "I thought he'd never get anything past that goalie."

"Yeah, the goalie's good, isn't he?" Kazuo agreed. "You must have played a good bit of soccer in your time, Christian—you don't look like you need to worry about a beer gut."

"I never did," Christian said. "but my nephew Rudolf was on a team for several years as a teenager, and when he was fifteen someone accidentally collided with him and his leg was broken. His mother immediately barred him from ever playing again, but my brother talked her around, and he spent three more years playing. Amalia fretted until I suggested we look for some chain mail for him, and that got her so much teasing that she finally stopped complaining."

The other men broke into laughter. "They're putting a team together at the high school, from what I hear," Jimmy remarked. "David wants to play next year."

"I'm sure Camille loves that," Grady said. "Oh, by the way, Brian, how's it feel knowing you're finally going to be a father?"

"What?" said Christian, sitting up in astonishment.

Brian stared at him in surprise. "I thought for sure Leslie would've told you—cripes, she knew before I did, for crying out loud. Lauren's pregnant—almost three months along already. Healthier than a horse, too. I gotta tell you, it was a helluva surprise, her getting pregnant after all this time. I mean, we've been married eight years. We figured we were just gonna be one of those couples that never had kids. Not so much by choice…" He paused, thought that over and then grinned. "Well, it was her choice actually. She just didn't want to get pregnant. Must've heard too many stories about morning sickness and bloated ankles and living in the bathroom." They all laughed again, Christian a little faintly, and Brian's attention refocused on him. "So Leslie didn't mention it?"

"No, she didn't," Christian said slowly, frowning slightly. A moment later he grew aware of the silence and quickly masked his emotions, looking up at Brian, grinning and offering his hand. "Congratulations, then. So are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"

"I'm just hoping for a baby," Brian said, "preferably singular. None of this twins stuff or anything." He shook Christian's hand on the laughter. "In a way I'm a little envious that you and Leslie are still just a couple. Once the kid gets here, Lauren'll be out of commission for a while, and I've almost got more business than I can handle. Might have to take on a couple of temps till the baby gets old enough to bring aboard the boat."

"Then you can have the kid steer the thing while you and Lauren relax," kidded Nick, setting off more chuckling.

"You know," Brian said suddenly, "Lauren told me she ran into Leslie at the hospital the other day. She was waiting for her first prenatal checkup, and in walks Leslie, right out of the blue. Hope she was okay, Christian."

Christian stared at him again. "I…thought she was. That is, she never said a word about going to the doctor."

This time his friends stared back, looking surprised. "You and Leslie okay?" Nick asked. "I mean, we know you two are really tight—can't imagine her not telling you."

"It was probably nothing much," Christian said with a shrug. "She'd mentioned it was time for her annual examination in any case. Mr. Roarke makes certain she goes for one every year about this time, after she collapsed of exhaustion once from working nonstop for several years. It's not as if that would be a surprise."

"True," came agreement from various sources, and the conversation moved along to other subjects, punctuated now and then by some climactic moment in the soccer game. But Christian contributed only occasionally to the talk, slowly swirling what was left of his beer in its bottle, wondering. Leslie hadn't told him about Lauren's pregnancy; she had asked to make love with him just about every night since his return from London; and she had never let him know she had a doctor's appointment. And she'd insisted everything was fine when he'd asked her if she was all right. Something didn't add up here, and he resolved to get her to talk to him once and for all. A nagging suspicion tapped on his brain, and he thought, _I don't suppose she's…no, I think she would have said something. Leslie never made a secret of worrying about being barren; I know she wants a baby. Why would she hide that from me? Whether it's that or something else, I really need to get her to talk, before this turns into something harmful to our marriage._ He tilted back the beer bottle and stared at the soccer game without quite seeing it.

§ § § -- September 22, 2003

Christian had just picked up Leslie at the main house and they were on their way to the post office and then the grocery store before going home. He was still wondering at her unusual reticence; he hadn't slept too well on Saturday night after returning from the Miyamotos', and only a walk-in customer with a major computer repair had kept him focused at work on Sunday. Leslie had told him about the weekend, and he'd tried to listen, but some of what she'd said had slipped through the cracks because of the issue on his mind. Now he was silent, drumming his fingers on the wheel now and then, before at last giving up and asking straight out, "Leslie, how was that doctor's appointment you had the other day?"

He felt an odd, uneasy jolt when she jerked her head around and stared at him with wide-eyed surprise. "How did you—I mean…" She turned red suddenly.

"I know," said Christian, "you didn't tell me. Why not?"

"It wasn't anything," Leslie said, shrugging. "Just the annual exam." After a moment's pause, she added a little tentatively, "I did ask Dr. Lambert to do a couple of extra tests, but it's not a really big issue."

"It could have been," Christian said a little coolly.

He knew she heard the note of withdrawal in his voice; she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, my love," she said softly, her head drooping. "I just didn't want to bother you with it…it was just a routine thing, and I do it every year. I thought you had enough to think about."

Christian parked the car in front of the post office and killed the engine before turning to her. "Leslie," he said, waited till she turned to him, and continued, "You should know perfectly well by now that you're the most important thing in my life. Whatever else is going on, whether it's work or the house or the family in Lilla Jordsö, none of that means as much to me as you do. I want to know what's happening, and I especially want to know when it's a medical issue. I've told you before that I worry about you." He reached out and ran one finger along the line of her jaw, watching her blush with regret. "Please, my Rose, don't ever hold back anything like that from me. I know you say it was only a routine exam, but how am I to know that unless you tell me so?"

Leslie had gone so red by now that this in itself almost worried him. "I'm really sorry, my love," she said again, very softly. "I should have told you. Dr. Lambert gave me a clean bill of health, if that helps any. She was glad to hear I spent the whole month of July in London with you."

Christian leaned over and gently kissed her. "Good," he said and smiled a little. "It does help. Now, what about those extra tests?"

"Just for some things I had noticed," Leslie said. "Primarily having to do with my period…I'm kind of irregular sometimes." She suddenly scowled fiercely, surprising him. "She mentioned my going on the Pill to regulate it, but I said no. Absolutely not."

"And why not?" he asked.

"Because it doesn't affect my overall health," said Leslie. "I see no reason to fix something that isn't really broken." Her voice caught slightly on the last word and she shrugged again, then met his gaze. "I really am sorry, Christian, believe me. I should have told you on Thursday evening when we both got home from work. How did you find out?"

"I heard accidentally at Kazuo and Katsumi's home Saturday evening. Brian said that Lauren had mentioned seeing you at the hospital. I also found out then that Lauren is pregnant…something else you didn't tell me. Not that it was important, but that surprises me as well." She reddened again and he chuckled softly. "Let's consider it forgotten, my darling, and get things done. Just, please, don't leave me out of matters like that, all right?" She nodded and he dropped another kiss on her lips. "Then it's settled. Come on."

They picked up their mail and bought the groceries they needed, then returned home and put things away. Christian flipped through the mail as she finished straightening up the kitchen, and was opening a bill when she slipped her arms around him from behind and hugged gently. "I missed you this weekend," Leslie said softly.

He smiled. "I missed you as well," he said, extracting the contents of the envelope and frowning down at them. _"Ach, herregud,_ this one's bigger than usual."

"How much bigger?" she asked absently, and he felt her fingers sifting through his hair. "We could forget all about that for a while…"

Once more Christian tensed, and curiosity—tinged with the faintest edge of frustration—overcame him utterly. "All right, Leslie," he said, dropping the bill on the table and turning in her arms, "why? Why is it so urgent that we make love?"

Leslie's eyes went wide with astonishment, and her mouth fell open a little. Was that a trace of fear he saw, too? "I…you—you're asking why?" she said faintly, clearly completely stunned. "Christian, my darling, are you feeling all right?"

"I'm perfectly fine," he said, "just extremely puzzled. You seem very single-minded about it. What about you? Are you certain Dr. Lambert found nothing wrong?"

"Of course, my love," she said, staring up at him. "I'm in good health, that's what she told me." Her eyes changed and she smiled suggestively. "I just want to make both of us feel even better." Before he could say anything, she pulled his head down and kissed him.

As always, that did him in. His mind clouded and he fell under her spell again, wrapping his arms around her and indulging himself in her. He didn't even remember taking her up to the bedroom; he knew only her warmth and her love, and when they lay together in each other's arms, his only thought was how lucky he was to have this woman he'd searched for for so long.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- September 24, 2003

Roarke had been watching his daughter all morning; she had come in without her usual sparkle, and her normal exuberance in her job was missing. A couple of times she had stopped where she was and wrapped both hands around her abdomen, wincing a little. Now, when he suggested lunch, she winced again and shook her head. "No, I don't think so," she said softly. "I'm not really hungry, and I don't feel all that great."

Roarke paused to look at her askance. "Why not?" he asked.

Leslie glanced at him and shrugged listlessly. "I got my period," she said. "Cramps and like that. They always interfere with my appetite."

Roarke nodded; he remembered many such instances from her teen years. "Perhaps you should take something," he suggested.

"It wouldn't help," she murmured, surprising him. "I'll stay in here and keep an eye on the phone and so on, if you want to have lunch."

For a moment he studied her, then asked, "Leslie, tell me, child, what's wrong?"

She met his gaze for one startled instant before shaking her head. "It's nothing, Father, really. Once the first couple of days are over I'm fine."

"Leslie," he said, with just a hint of sternness, "don't dissemble. I've been watching you all morning, and there's more to it than just physical discomfort, isn't there?" He fielded the trapped stare she gave him, and smiled slightly. "Sit down, Leslie, and tell me."

For a moment or two he thought she would balk, and was prepared to counteract that; but then she drooped and wilted quietly into a chair. "I first got it this morning," she said unhappily. "I've been…Christian and I…" She turned red and slanted a glance at him from behind her bangs. "I think Christian's getting a little frustrated with me, because I want to have a baby. I'm ready to get pregnant, and every night I talk Christian into…" She stopped again; Roarke took pity on her.

"So you've been attempting to conceive," he guessed, "but you haven't explained this to Christian, have you, my child?"

"No," she said, very softly, hanging her head.

"Leslie," Roarke said gently, "you do realize that it will be Christian's child as much as yours should you conceive, don't you? Don't you think that, as the father of the baby you want, he has every right to know? Why haven't you told him?"

Leslie struggled for a moment, her face flaming. Painfully she looked at him and said, "I know it doesn't matter so much to him. He doesn't really care if we have a baby or not. But I want one, Father. I want so much to have Christian's baby. It's not so hard to talk him into making love, but now he's asking me why I seem to have to do it every night. I already miss some nights with him, on the weekends because I'm here, and I don't know…those could be the nights I might have conceived. Now I know for a fact I'm not pregnant…again." Her eyes filled with tears and she cried plaintively, "Why can't I have a baby? What's wrong with me that no matter how much I try, I can't conceive a child?"

"You saw Dr. Lambert last week, sweetheart, didn't you?" Roarke asked, and she nodded, jarring her tears loose. "Did you mention it to her?"

"I asked her to do whatever tests were necessary to find out if I'm really sterile and completely unable to get pregnant," Leslie said. "She told me I should be patient, since the results won't come back till at least next month. But she asked me a lot of questions, and she said there was no obvious reason I couldn't conceive and carry a baby to term. So she had to do the tests on me, and maybe then we'll know something…but I don't understand it. And what if it's not physical? What if there's something else? I mean…suppose it's not a medical thing, or a…even a psychological cause? I mean…" She floundered, trying to find the words, while Roarke waited patiently. "I thought maybe Teppo's mother did something…that obsession she had with bringing him back to life, and that weird ritual she had about collecting the tears when we got married, like some kind of voodoo. I didn't think about it that much, but I thought there was something wrong with me then. And then later I read some weird story about how some women are allergic to their husbands, in a way…if you know what I mean…and I thought, I knew it sounded silly, but I thought maybe that was the problem with me and Teppo. But now I can't conceive with Christian either, and more than anything I want to give him a son or daughter. I can't believe he wouldn't want…" She broke off and hung her head again, her tears flowing. "I love him so much, Father. I want to be the mother of his children."

"And," Roarke prompted, "Christian is less focused on this than you are, am I correct? I believe he has mentioned that he's quite happy simply to have you in his life."

"But I…" Leslie began.

"Leslie," Roarke broke in, "you're in danger now of letting this become the overriding concern in your marriage. And if you don't talk about it with Christian, his frustration will only grow, until it turns perhaps into resentment and begins to erode your marriage. Leslie, you must realize that this, almost more than anything else in your lives together, concerns him every bit as much as it does you, and you are doing him a great injustice if you don't share this with him. Even if he can't help you, at least he will understand, and there is no doubt that he will sympathize with you and be able to work through this with you. If you continue to shut him out, you'll find you may have done damage that will be difficult—perhaps even impossible—to repair. Don't betray his trust in you, for it was difficult enough for him to learn to let down the last of his guard at all. It will take only one serious incident to destroy that, and you may very well hurt him beyond his ability to recover."

She had turned pale and was staring at him with honest fright glittering through her tears. "He…he's never said…I didn't know it was so…"

"He wouldn't," Roarke said kindly. "Most men are raised not to expose their emotions or insecurities, especially their innermost ones. But that vulnerability is there nonetheless, and it's very real. Before you do irreparable harm, confide in him. When Christian comes this evening to take you home, explain things to him. He loves you very deeply, Leslie, and I have no doubt he will do what he can to comfort and reassure you. Give him a chance to try to help you. It may not change the situation, but believe me—you will feel far better for allowing him to at least share the problem with you."

Leslie nodded, her eyes welling with fresh tears. "I hope it's not too late."

Roarke smiled. "I'm sure it's not. Now, suppose you come out with me and try to eat at least a light lunch. If Mariki says something, I'll see to it that she ceases." He smiled teasingly at her, and she managed a slight, waterlogged smile and accompanied him out to the veranda.

‡ ‡ ‡

Christian saw immediately that Leslie wasn't feeling too well and agreed with Roarke that it was probably best to take her straight home. On the way there he gently cajoled her into telling him about her day, and smiled with visible relief when she willingly did so. At home, however, she seemed to fall into a pensive mood again, and he watched her in concern and perhaps a touch of wariness throughout the evening. To his surprise, she decided to go up to bed at a surprisingly early hour, and he stared after her as she went up the steps, his concern rising. He sat for a moment, absently tapping a foot on the floor, considering his wife's odd demeanor, and finally made a decision. Shutting off the television set, he turned out the lights and followed her up.

Leslie had just finished brushing her teeth and was emerging from the bathroom when he topped the spiral stairway. "Hi," she murmured with a wan smile.

"Hi," he replied, studying her. She climbed into the bed, settled under the sheet and curled up in a nearly fetal position on one side, closing her eyes. Christian stared at her, waiting, but she lay still, one arm curled around her abdomen.

Finally he realized that she wasn't going to present him with the pleas for lovemaking that he had, in spite of himself, almost come to dread, and surprise drove him to her side of the bed, where he knelt and laid a hand on her arm. "My Rose, what's wrong?" he asked in a soft voice. "Are you sick?"

"A little," Leslie murmured, opening her eyes. "I got my period this morning, and I've been cramping like a fiend all day. Couldn't eat much."

"Ah, I see," Christian said with realization. "Did you take anything?"

"No," she murmured. "Didn't see the point."

She sounded so listless that he began to worry. "Leslie, I'm sorry you don't feel well, but I wish you'd come clean to me once and for all. I can see from looking at you that it's not entirely physical discomfort that's affecting you. You look unhappy, and I want to know why. Tell me, and maybe I can help."

Leslie focused directly on him for the first time and a guilty expression crept across her face. "You've already tried your utmost to help…I kept making you do it," she confessed, her eyes gleaming with new tears. "You're probably secretly happy I'm not feeling well, since you get a break from me making passes at you all the time…" She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to bury her face in her pillow.

Christian swallowed guiltily and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Rising enough to sit on the edge of the bed, he pulled her into a sitting position and cradled her against him; she didn't resist, but she sat huddled into herself. "You always told me everything before," he said softly, smoothing her hair. "Don't stop now. Don't cry, my Rose…tell me about it."

"I…I kept asking you to make love with me every night because I was hoping I'd get pregnant," Leslie said, her voice a little muffled against his shirt. "I want…I'm ready for us to start a family. But I guess I forgot to ask if you were ready too."

Christian chuckled at that and slowly stroked her back. "You know I'm happy with you alone, but believe me, my darling, if you did fall pregnant, I'd be glad of that as well. I realize you want a baby, and I suppose I can understand that. But I must admit, I thought you were as happy that we had each other…"

"I am," Leslie cried, staring up at him with wide, wet eyes. "I wish I could make you understand how crazy in love with you I am. Just to have you in my life is a miracle, to have you as my husband is a dream come true. I've never been anything but happy with you."

That finally gained her a smile, and he cradled her anxious face in his hands. "You do my heart good, saying that. But now you want more, is that the problem?"

"I'm not sure I can explain it," Leslie said, catching a corner of her lower lip between her teeth. "I…I want to give you a child, a son or a daughter…someone who's a part of each of us. I want to be the mother of your children. I'd feel as if…we combined the best of ourselves in our baby. I love you, Christian, and I want to give you that ultimate gift."

Christian considered that for a moment, smiling a little. His eyes warmed when he refocused on her. "If I were ever going to sire children, I'd want no one but you to be their mother, my darling, believe me. I don't want to make you feel that you're alone in the desire for children, but for the moment it isn't my primary concern. Perhaps I never had the time to really mull over the idea. I spent so many years trying to find the one woman I could love, and building my business—though even that was secondary to the quest. Then I found you, and I fell in love with you almost instantly—only to find myself bartered off to a stranger barely out of her childhood. And then I felt that nothing mattered—only you. Trying to convince you of how much I loved you, trying to make you believe that my situation was not my doing—trying to keep from losing you." He sighed. "I think that's when I understood that if I could just have you as my wife, everything else fell far down in importance…yes, even becoming a father. Now that you _are_ my wife, my life is full. Even now, more than two years after our marriage, my life is still full, and I'm still content to have you, and I don't mind if we don't have children. But I can see that it's become important to you now."

"You don't want to have kids?" Leslie ventured.

Christian frowned. "There's a difference, Leslie, between lowering the priority I place on fatherhood and not wanting it at all. Not once have I ever stated that I didn't want children. I'm trying to tell you that I can accept it perfectly well if we don't. That does _not_ mean I don't ever want offspring. Do you understand me?"

She nodded faintly, looking a little apprehensive. "I guess it just means you don't really want them right now…"

Christian's hands slid from her face to her shoulders, and he drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes, breathing out again and then focusing on her once more. "Leslie, I don't think I'm getting through to you. Don't you hear me? Let me put it this way: if tomorrow you were to learn that you're pregnant after all, I would be happy. Do you understand now? Do you believe me?"

"You would?" Leslie whispered, blinking. Hope filled her expression.

"Yes, I would," Christian said, gentling his voice a little. "I know you aren't pregnant right now. It's not the end of the world to me. I think perhaps I'm only asking you not to obsess over this issue. Yes, I know you want to be pregnant. Yes, I know it's important to you to be able to bear our child. But it's so filling your mind that it seems to be all you can think about. Don't you realize that that in itself can affect your ability to conceive? Not only that, but it almost seems to me that you might be trying to prove something. This has come about since you learned that Lauren's pregnant, hasn't it? Now that your only remaining childless friend is to be a mother, you're dying to join the club."

She flinched, bit her lip hard and hung her head. "I guess you're right."

He leaned forward and drifted the lightest of kisses onto her cheek. "For you to have a baby, my Leslie Rose, would be a very happy event, just as much for me as for you. But I wish you wouldn't succumb to the idea that it defines you as a woman, because it doesn't. First, before anything else, you're Leslie Enstad. You're my cherished wife, the woman I love beyond belief, a woman with soul and spirit, a generous heart and a beautiful character. You've always been confident in yourself and you know your own mind, and that above all else drew me to you. You never let my status as a prince intimidate or influence you; you saw Christian Enstad, not Crown Prince Christian, and that's what I was losing hope in finding when I came here and met you. Those qualities in you touched me, and before I knew it I was in love at long last. Don't lose that woman I love so deeply. You are Leslie, my very best friend, my lover and my wife, your own person, before anything else. Becoming a mother should be another element in that, not the sole definition of who Leslie Enstad is. Please tell me you see the point I'm trying to make."

Christian waited, watching her staring at him in wonder while she absorbed his words. Then, slowly, her hand trembling a little, Leslie reached up and tentatively laid her palm on his cheek. "I do see your point, I really do. No one ever said anything more beautiful to me. I love you, Christian…my amazing, incredible husband. Of all the women in the world who could have won your heart, somehow I did…I don't know how, but I did."

"Oh yes, my darling, you certainly did," Christian assured her, smiling fully. "And you most certainly do know how you won my heart, because I just told you."

She reared back slightly, her eyes widening further, and then she giggled softly, making him grin with as much relief as amusement. "You got me there," she admitted good-naturedly, leaning into him and hugging him. "You made me feel so much better. Thank you, Christian…and thank you for all your patience with me, even though I've probably tested it beyond endurance all month."

Christian laughed softly. "I'm sure you'll test it again before too long, but I'll forgive you, because I love you so very much. Now here, lie down and rest a little, and don't worry. We have plenty of time." He eased her back onto her pillow, leaned over her and planted a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. "I have a little work to do in the library here. If you need me, just call me, but try to sleep, all right? You'll feel better in the morning."

"I feel better now," Leslie said, smiling at him. "I love you, my darling."

"I love you too, my Rose," he assured her. "Get some sleep, now." He smoothed back her hair a few times, then smiled at her, arose and headed for the library.


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- September 29, 2003

The weather was preparing to change, they could see; Roarke, Leslie and Christian stood in the lane in front of the main house, watching the high feathery cirrus leading in a layer of dark overcast. "It's moving quickly," Roarke observed. "If you leave right now, you should beat the storm home."

"Don't forget to secure your own home," Christian said. "It always amazes me how open this house is, and yet it withstands anything that comes through here. While we're on the subject, tell me why it is that it never, ever rains here on weekends, unless it's very late at night? Is this another form of the enchantment they say is on this island?"

Roarke smiled. "You know I never give away trade secrets," he said with a twinkle in his dark eyes, and Christian and Leslie both laughed. "Hurry home, and be careful."

They easily beat the storm back home and made certain all the windows were closed; then Christian went upstairs to check on their computers. Leslie came up with him and stood nervously in front of the French doors to their deck, staring into the darkening sky and watching the wind begin to pick up. A moment later Christian joined her. "It looks like a big one," he remarked with anticipation.

She smiled tensely and huddled against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I hope it's fast, too," she said.

Christian laughed and wrapped his arms around her as well. "Strange how I've become so accustomed to that storm phobia of yours," he observed. "In fact, if you were somehow cured of it tomorrow, I'd miss the chance to comfort you."

She grinned up at him. "And you do it so well, too," she said, rising on tiptoe to kiss him. "In fact, I'd love some more of that comforting right now."

For just a second or two he hesitated. "Would you, then?" he murmured, studying her with his expression beginning to seal over.

Surprise and hurt sliced through her and she let her arms fall away from him. "I only thought…well, if you don't want to…"

There might have been more, but just then a crack of thunder echoed across the sky, and she jumped and gasped. Christian caught her and held her close, and she clung to him, her head tucked just under his chin. He could smell the floral shampoo she always used, felt every tense muscle in her body pressed against his own, and realized with surprise that he'd missed her. She was happier, seemed recovered from her depression; he found himself relieved to have her back to normal. "I really can't stay away from you so long," Christian admitted softly, reaching down to fit her snugly against him. "Oh, my Rose…come here and let me comfort you. Give me enough of a chance, and you won't even notice the storm."

"Oh, I'll still notice it," she bantered, smiling up at him as another rumble of thunder growled outside. "I just won't care." They both laughed softly; then he lowered his head and kissed her deeply. Leslie moaned just audibly and leaned into him, and he gathered a loose fistful of her hair and drew his hand slowly down, deepening their kiss, his mind growing hazy with his need for her. Within five minutes they'd stripped each other and fallen back onto the bed, and the storm became little more than background noise for them.

Very relaxed in the aftermath, she whispered, "Oh Christian…I love you, and I missed you…five days of not feeling well…I hated it."

"Hmm," he murmured sleepily. "Seems quite odd of me that I resisted, doesn't it?"

"Too much of a good thing, I guess," she said. "I…next time, my love, I'll let you decide, I promise. I'm always ready for you."

He grinned at her. "I can see that. I'm quite fortunate that way! Just assure me that you love me, and you can do anything you like to me."

He had reason to remember those words that night, when he got bored with a television show and went upstairs to find Leslie in the library, writing an e-mail to Michiko. She was wearing the little teal satin shift that had so captivated him on their wedding night, and he thought he caught a whiff of some exotic perfume, which made him pause with astonishment. Leslie seldom wore perfume, and he suddenly wondered, inanely, if there were some significant date or event he'd managed to forget.

"Hi, my love," she said and smiled at him when he stopped in the doorway. "I'll just be another minute or two."

Christian nodded. "I'll get ready for bed, then," he said and went to do so before she could respond. He found himself torn. He could never resist Leslie; he loved her far too much, and she had an effect on him that he had never known with any other woman and that constantly amazed him. He could think of nothing more tempting than falling into bed with her and losing himself in her for hours.

But he was afraid she wasn't making love with him just because she loved him, which should have been the foremost reason for it. She wanted to get pregnant, and she knew she had trouble conceiving. Her apparent solution was to talk him into making love with her every night, and he had begun to fear that this was her sole purpose—that she was making love with him because she wanted a baby, rather than because she loved him.

His mind raced with budding frustration as he changed for bed. He really thought he had gotten his point across; he had been so sure that she'd understood. Was she still so set on getting pregnant? Could he ever again look at her and not wonder? If she wore anything sexy to bed, he got wary. If she did anything even remotely romantic—even, he realized with guilty disbelief, smiling at him or touching him—he was afraid she wanted to try again to get pregnant. He crossed the room toward the bathroom to brush his teeth, trying to understand why he couldn't shake her out of her tunnel-vision mindset. A little guiltily he wondered as well why he was so leery of her getting pregnant. _I'm not against it,_ he argued with himself. _I'd be thrilled if she conceived. I just feel…that she's using me and my body so she can have the child she wants._

He met his own gaze in the mirror and froze there for a moment, mouth full of toothpaste, eyes apprehensive. _Why in the world do you feel like that?_ his image seemed to be asking. _Does she do anything differently when you two are making love?_

_No…she's as loving as ever. She still cries out my name when she climaxes, she still holds me when it's over, and she doesn't turn away from me. I can still lie in her arms as I come back down from that high, and feel her caressing my back, and be secure in her love for me._

_Then what's your problem, Enstad? She just wants to have a baby. Maybe you're just selfish. You mentioned to her not so long ago that you weren't ready to share her with any child you two might have together. Are you really so self-centered that you'd deny her the child she wants, just because you're afraid she'd have no time left for you after the baby was born? You know she loves you. She's never been less than adoring of you. But now you're losing your trust in her, and that's going to hurt her badly._

Christian scowled at himself. _Oh, shut up. Leslie knows I'd never hurt her. If I'm not sure, then I'll ask her. She'll understand._

_You think so? How about this, Enstad: do you want to be a father? Do you want her to have a baby, or are you hoping she'll never conceive and you'll have her to yourself for all your days, even though you know she wants to bear your child? Remember what she told you last week? She sees bearing your child as giving you something precious, a rare and miraculous gift. You, on the other hand, see it as a nuisance._

His own thought jolted him and he furiously rejected it. He spat out his toothpaste with twice the necessary force and snapped at himself in _jordiska_, "You have no idea what you're talking about, you fool!" And yet, some little corner of his mind seemed to be pinching him, taunting him that he protested too much. _Come on, Enstad, do you want to be a father or not? Can't you answer that question?_

He cursed, the worst curse he knew of, the word hissing through his teeth, and left the bathroom in a foul mood. He could only hope that Leslie wouldn't try to initiate the act tonight; he wasn't sure how he'd react. Christian crossed the room, rounding the bed to his side, and slid in, dousing the lamp and lying on his side facing the back wall. _You don't want to deal with me now, Leslie, my Rose…please just ignore me when you come in._

He could still hear her typing in the library and closed his eyes, fighting his guilt, his doubt and his annoyance with himself. After a few minutes the typing stopped, and he tried to remain still, listening hard. In another moment or two he heard her feet padding softly over the carpeted floor and felt her getting into bed beside him; the mattress stilled, and then he heard her release a small sigh. "Oh well…" she whispered, just barely audibly, and the mattress shifted again. The dull-red field Christian saw behind his eyelids from the light changed to black, and he heard a snap at the same moment.

Astonishment filled him. She had really meant it when she'd said she'd let him decide, he realized, flooded with guilt. But the words she'd said…what had that meant? And just like that, he doubted all over again. She would have tried again, wouldn't she?

Tormented, he sprang out of bed and to the window, knocking a frustrated fist on the wall and leaning his forehead on it. He had no doubt he'd startled his wife, and sure enough, a few seconds later she ventured timidly, "Christian?"

"Pay me no attention, Leslie," he said. "I have something on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

_Knock it off, Enstad,_ said the nagging voice in his head. _She doesn't deserve this._ He blew out a sigh and turned slowly back, retracing his steps to the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress, shoulders rounded, head drooping, eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Leslie," he said.

The mattress shifted again and he opened his eyes, watching her sit up from his peripheral vision. She reached out and he tensed subtly, waiting, while she slowly ran a hand up and down his back, nothing more. "Maybe I can help you feel better," she offered softly.

Christian had just started to relax, and now went taut again. "Oh?"

Leslie's hand stopped midway down his back, then left him entirely. "Never mind," she said quietly, and he turned his head in time to see her shift away from him, preparing to lie back down. "You've already had enough of me…"

The words stunned him; he felt icy inside. _"What?"_

She went still, but didn't turn back to him. "I wanted to help, but then I remembered I promised you. So never mind."

Christian could no longer endure the emotional hurricane within him. "Just tell me one thing, Leslie, please. Why do you want to make love with me?"

Very slowly Leslie turned around and gaped at him; he could see shock and pain and disbelief glittering in her eyes. But he had to know, and while she goggled at him he pressed the issue. "Tell me! Why?"

Finally she croaked at him, "You…you actually have to ask me that?"

"Yes!" he snapped, driven past rationality by his own insecurity. "I do have to ask you, in light of what you finally told me last week. I want to know, and I want your honest answer, Leslie. Why?"

"Don't get imperial with me, Christian Enstad," she warned, her voice shaking. "I'm your wife, not some servant. And to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I should even try to answer such a ridiculous question. For one thing, I don't think you'd believe me."

It was Christian's turn to be utterly shocked, and he realized in that instant that he'd gone too far. "Oh, Leslie, my God…what on earth have I done? Please, my darling, I'm so sorry. I'm only…I'm not rational tonight…I beg you…"

"I want to make love with you," Leslie said softly, "because I love you. Believe me or don't, but that's my answer."

"But you wanted to…" he began and cut himself off.

"No, go on," she said, and he looked up to find her staring at him, her expression closed. "Now you tell me—where in hell did that question come from?"

Christian wilted and ran a hand through his hair. "It came," he said starkly, "from the fear that you want to make love with me solely in an attempt to conceive a child."

Leslie gasped, softly but sharply, and he risked another glance at her. "Maybe you think I do," she said, "but damn it, Christian, if the only reason I wanted sex was to conceive, then I could have asked anyone who came down the pike. I want only you. I want _your_ child, not just _a_ child, do you understand the difference?"

Christian hadn't heard what he wanted—needed—to hear. "But do you just want the child, or do you want me?"

"I want you!" Leslie shouted, finally losing her temper. "I love you, dammit! Why on earth don't you believe me?" Her control eluded her entirely and she began to cry.

"Leslie…Leslie, come here," he pleaded, moving back onto the bed and gathering her into his arms. "My darling, I do believe you. I'm only trying to understand this overwhelming need you suddenly seem to have to get pregnant. It's been eating at me lately…every night you ask, and I know you want a baby, and I've begun to wonder if there's only that ulterior motive driving you. I honestly don't mean to upset you, but I can't find the answers without asking you, and unfortunately I didn't handle it properly. Please, my Rose, forgive me my insecurities…I simply want to help, and I don't quite know how."

"I'm sorry, my love," she sobbed softly. "I didn't mean to yell…but I didn't know…"

"I know, I know," he murmured in a soothing tone. "I _am_ sorry, truly. Please, tell me what's really driving you. The issue bothered you before, but you were always able to deal with it, to put it in its proper perspective. Now it's become a small monster and I don't want it getting any larger. Why, my darling, why is it suddenly so important for you to have a baby? Are you so bored with having only me in the house?" Deliberately he couched the last question in a gently teasing tone, threading his fingers through her hair again and again, rocking her a little, trying to calm her.

"No," Leslie said tearfully. "No, I love you…I love having you with me, I love being your wife, I love you and everything about you…I want her to be wrong."

"You want whom to be wrong?" Christian cajoled gently.

"Ingela Vikslund," Leslie cried softly, breaking down into a fresh round of tears. "She knew I couldn't get pregnant…it's like she knew I'd tried and tried and it never happened. Maybe she's right…maybe I really am barren."

Christian growled low in his throat and huddled her against him. "If I ever see Ingela again, she'll pay for that," he ground out. "Her intent was to hurt you, Leslie, and she simply managed to find the one truly sore spot in you and rain hammer blows on it. When you let her see that she'd found your weakness, she exploited it. It's not your fault, my Rose. She has little enough conscience that she finds it very easy to hurt others in the attempt to get what she wants." He cupped her chin and tilted her head back. "Ingela Vikslund's opinions and insults simply aren't worth putting yourself through this torture. Whatever else you do, don't let her be the reason you want to conceive now."

Leslie stared up at him, anxiety in her eyes. "Do you…still love me enough to…?"

"To make love with you? Leslie, my darling, how can you ever think I don't love you? Don't you know by now that you're my very life? Haven't you ever realized that the moment you kiss me, the moment I feel your hands on me, all my resistance is gone? My only fear was that your primary motivation was conception, and I felt left out, pushed aside."

"No, no, no," Leslie cried desperately, throwing her arms around him and hugging him so hard that he found it a little difficult to breathe. "No, Christian, my love, no, don't ever think that, please! I'm hooked on you, do you realize that? Of course I want to have your baby, but I could never, ever, just perform the act and then turn away. You…you just intoxicate me. I want to make love with you because…because, my God, Christian, you're so wonderful—you always make me feel so loved and so safe and so cared for!"

She had hit him straight in the heart, and he clutched her hard, cradling her head and struggling not to cry himself. "You've convinced me," he managed to choke out at last, closing his eyes and tightening his hold on her. "Oh, Leslie, my darling, my light, you have to know you're worth a dozen of Ingela. Nothing she says matters at all. Oh, sweet Rose…I love you so very much…you can't begin to imagine how much." He kissed her, deeply, with an urgency that she returned in kind, and in just a mere few minutes they were tangled in each other, caressing feverishly, murmuring to each other, kissing frequently. He slipped into her and she wrapped herself around him, and they soared together, each repeatedly calling the other's name.


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § -- September 29, 2003

"_Oh, good God, girl, aren't you pregnant yet?"_

"_How much has she let him try? She probably pushes him away every night."_

"_You seem to think you know a lot! I expect you're jealous, don't you think they are, Leslie?"_

"_I don't know…"_

"_Of course, they all are. You just watch. Leslie will be pregnant, and I'll see to it that she is."_

"_She isn't worthy of you and you both know it."_

"_Look at her, sitting there with that hurt expression. She knows it's her fault there's been no baby. Why you ever married her, I'll never understand."_

"_You know our father's dead because of you, don't you?"_

"_I didn't—!"_

"_Oh, but you did. You weren't enough help soon enough."_

"_She's trouble, Teppo. You should never have gotten involved with her. If it weren't for you, I'd throw her out…"_

"_Come on, Leslie, we don't need to listen to this. We're going to try again for that baby, and that will show every one of you. There's no need for us to listen to this."_

"_You'll listen and learn! How many times have we told you that girl is far beneath you? You're so blinded by what you think you feel for her, you discount the words of your own family…especially your mother, your own loving mother…"_

"_Shut up! Just shut up!!"_

"_You dare tell a prince to shut up?"_

"_What—? I…no, it wasn't you—"_

"_You're no princess, and you've lost our brother his princely status because you refused to understand what he really means to our people. And now you can't even give him a child. What have you done to him? Why don't you release him?"_

"_You don't truly love him, I suspect…you aren't worthy of him."_

"_He's a prince. He deserves better than you. You're not worthy of him."_

"_You're not worthy of him…you're not worthy…"_

"But I love him!" Leslie screamed and bolted upright in the bed. "I love him, don't you understand? Stop it, stop it!!"

"Leslie, my God, what's wrong?" cried Christian, seizing her and hugging her hard. "Why the screaming? You must have been having a nightmare. Come on, my Rose, tell me about it…what was happening?"

"I saw Teppo's family first," Leslie sobbed. "They kept asking me why I wasn't pregnant, taunting me, telling me I wasn't worth it. And I yelled at them to shut up…and then they were suddenly your family, Carl Johan and Anna-Laura and your nieces and nephews, all staring at me…such cold eyes…telling me you were a prince and deserved better than me. But I love you…Christian, I love you, I love you…"

"Stop, Leslie, stop," Christian broke in firmly, urgently, rocking her and smoothing her hair, caressing her in a frantic attempt to beat back her hysteria. "It was only a bad dream, nothing more than that. Stop now. It's all right, my darling, it's all right." He kept stroking her, repeatedly coaxing her to calm down, until all that was left was her helpless crying. "Leslie, please…tell me how this dream could have come about. Exactly what was Teppo's family saying to you?"

She slowly dredged the hurtful comments out of her memory, repeating them as best she could remember them, shuddering in his arms. Christian sat and listened, and when she finished, he asked gently, "Is that what they said in real life?"

"Yes…over and over again, they asked me why on earth I wasn't pregnant yet. They'd denigrate me to Teppo, and they'd do it in English so I had no way of ignoring them, so I'd know exactly what they were saying about me. Every month that passed by, they'd do it again. His mother was always the worst."

"Leslie," Christian reminded her gently, "Teppo's mother was insane. You said as much to me yourself. How could you put such stock into her words? And his brothers and sisters seem to have been merely spiteful, as far as I can tell."

"But I didn't know that," Leslie said, staring at him with tears still standing in her eyes. "I didn't realize she was going crazy, and I don't know why the others did what they did…I can only think it was because his father died here."

"They were blaming you for something over which you had absolutely no control," Christian said. "They made it very much an unfair fight, half a dozen to one. And what did Teppo do to defend you?"

"He just…" Leslie began, stopped and stilled, and blinked, stunned. "Oh, my God…"

Christian clearly heard the note of horrified realization in her voice. "What?"

"All he ever said was that they were wrong, I'd get pregnant eventually…and right after that he'd take me downstairs and try again." Her startled gaze flew to his. "It was…it was more important to him to make sure he got me pregnant than to tell them off."

"It would seem so," Christian agreed, frowning. "And yet…you thought he loved you."

"He said so," Leslie said uncertainly.

"When exactly did all this begin? How long had you and Teppo been married before his mother and siblings began to badger you about not being pregnant?" Christian asked.

"Almost three years," Leslie said.

"Did they resent you before that? At least, did they do so that openly?"

"I…don't know," Leslie mumbled, her voice trailing off for a moment. Then she too frowned. "They must have been more subtle about it before that. But I always had the sense that they resented me, pretty much from the day Teppo brought me home. And in the last year Teppo started to get frustrated, and I felt like a failure."

Christian pressed, "Was he frustrated with you or his family?"

"I'm not sure," Leslie said very slowly. "Maybe all of us. I don't really know."

"Was he aware of your feelings, do you think?" Christian questioned.

"Probably not…I held it in," Leslie admitted. "I was already outnumbered as it was and I was trying not to rock the boat. And I was questioning myself, wondering why I couldn't get pregnant. It never occurred to me to think it could've been Teppo and not me. But I was right." She bit her lip. "I haven't gotten pregnant by you either, so it has to be me."

Christian shook his head. "What makes you think it's not me?"

"Well, I…" She stopped and looked at him. "I don't think I…"

"You'll recall," Christian pointed out, "that Ingela was proven wrong about Kurt being my son. The fact that Karin Grimsby and I always used protection when we were seeing each other doesn't prove that I'm capable of siring a child. It may well have been Teppo then, and for all either of us knows, it's me now."

"But both of you?" Leslie protested. "I could see it being Teppo, but not you…"

"But you don't know that," Christian said. "I don't know it myself."

Leslie shook her head. "I can't…I still think it's me."

Christian sighed softly and carefully brushed away a tear with one thumb. "Leslie, my Rose, you must insist on taking the blame, mustn't you? Do you know what that tells me? It means that Teppo's family got to you. They succeeded so well in convincing you that you were worthless as a wife that you still believe it. Tell me this. Do his family and their cruel, misguided opinions really matter so much to you, thirteen years after his death?"

Leslie went absolutely stock-still in his embrace, and he watched her, waiting silently for her to process his words. It took her a full five minutes to absorb everything, and he sat patiently, with one hand still gathered around a hank of her hair and stroking down, ever so slowly, moving back up and stroking down again. Gradually he became aware that she'd started to shiver, and he kissed her forehead, rubbing her back.

At last she whispered, "They did get to me. They really did. And all these years I never questioned why they were always attacking me. I just let them make me believe that they were right and I wasn't good enough to be Teppo's wife because I never got pregnant."

"Frankly," Christian said, "I think you were too good for them. They were a bunch of fools…selfish, cruel idiots. Whatever their reasons for cutting you down, they were wrong. Furthermore, Teppo's reaction should have been different. By persisting in trying to make you pregnant, he merely proved that he agreed with them in some way. He should have stood at your side and told his family to back down and leave you in peace, and that they had no right to say such things about you, much less to you. He didn't do that, Leslie. Oh, he may have told them they were wrong, but that's as far as it went. It sounded to you as if he was defending you, but it was a halfhearted defense at best. In the end, his actions showed that he thought they must be right."

"We started having fights about it," Leslie said, staring into the dark, blinking. "We'd go through another of those confrontations, and he'd promptly try again…over and over and over. It started wearing me out and I didn't have the same desire for him, and sometimes I put him off, and then we'd argue. I kept suggesting there were other ways to have a child. We could try in-vitro fertilization, or surrogate motherhood, or adoption…and after months of this, he said maybe it was worth considering. Three days after that, he was killed."

"I see," Christian murmured. "You and I have the same options, you know. I don't think there's reason to panic just yet. We've never used any form of birth control, but we were never actively trying to become parents. And it's my understanding that after a certain period of unsuccessful attempts, only then is it considered that there may be fertility problems. You said something about tests with Dr. Lambert, didn't you?"

Leslie nodded. "They were fertility tests, yes. She said the results won't come back till next month."

"All right," Christian said and patted her shoulder. "Then that's for next month. As for Teppo, tell me—didn't you resent the fact that he was so singleminded?"

"I did, yes," Leslie admitted. "I wanted a baby too, of course…enough that I didn't question him. But I remember wishing he'd back off and give me a break. Now that I look at it, now that you point it out, I can see that he could be selfish sometimes, and he spent a lot of time putting his family over me in importance."

"It just seems to me," Christian mused, "that Teppo had a way of being impetuous, that he was really just too young and too immature to handle marriage properly. You were even younger than he, and more than that, he was the first man you ever fell in love with, and you tried too hard to please him, so that too often he got the upper hand. You were both so young…so he let his family goad him, and you let them carve away at your self-confidence, and it began to come between you. The only thing that stopped the erosion was his death. If I dare say it, that death may have been a blessing, very well disguised. It allowed you to make your escape from all that, to come back here and heal not only from Teppo's death but also the emotional and verbal abuse his mother and siblings put you through. You needed to regain yourself, to grow a little more."

Leslie nodded very slowly, her eyes wide with discovery. "I was so naïve, too…"

"So you were," he said. "But you are very much your own person. If you didn't have the courage to stand up for yourself back then, you certainly do now. You finished the growing up that you didn't have the chance to do before you leaped into marriage with Teppo and found yourself the object of their scorn. You became the woman I fell so much in love with, and you're worth everything to me, do you know that? And not just that, but my family agrees. They think the world of you. When I feared losing you in the event Kurt was my son, I told Carl Johan, and he told me to believe you and trust you, because he knew how deeply you love me. They've accepted you and welcomed you, and it's not just because they would have suffered my eternal wrath if they didn't." He grinned, and she had to laugh.

"I've come to realize," Leslie said softly, "that I was doing to you what Teppo did to me. I had to learn that lesson again. He was the one with the obsession before, even if it was his family pushing him. Now it's me…I've been the one pushing you, trying too hard, driving you away. I'm so sorry, Christian, please believe me. I still want very much to have your children, but I…I know how incredibly lucky I am to have you and your love. And if it's always just you and me, I'll always be grateful you're in my life."

Christian kissed her softly. "You must know I feel the same about you. We have time, my Rose, believe me, we do. If it's going to happen, it will, in its own time. And if not, we're never alone, not when we have a love like this."

"But we can still try sometimes, right?" she ventured hopefully.

He grinned. "Of course. More than sometimes. Ah, my Rose, I love you so much."

"I love you too, always," she murmured, and he kissed her again.  
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_Next up: a very surprising blast from Leslie's past…_


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